


Dark Place

by Dawn_twilight



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_twilight/pseuds/Dawn_twilight
Summary: Danny listened in the darkness.





	Dark Place

**Author's Note:**

> I really should be working on Fighting Chance instead of rehashing stories.

"Steve?" Danny whispered, carefully listening for a response to his panicked call, in total darkness. 

He had awoken minutes ago to find himself laid out flat on his back, the place he was in, pitch black, his eyes unable to adjust...with no recollection of how he had gotten there.

Taking a calming breath, he tried again, a little louder, a little surer, "Steve?" but he heard only his own raspy and strained voice, no other sounds, almost as if he were in a vacuum. 

"Oh, man," he breathed out, "where the hell am I?" 

Slowly, he managed to roll over to his side and then carefully push himself up and felt around the dirt ground, crawling barefooted, on hands and knees, until he bumped into a solid object. 

Blindly lifting his hands, his fingers searched the uneven surface, then pulling himself to his feet, he walked, arms outstretched, smoothing them along what had to have been a wall. 

He had made it to a corner and then continued a few feet, tripping over something protruding from the floor, falling and smashing his bare knee against something unyielding. 

Pain jackknifed up his leg and he doubled over, sitting down on something hard and rigid.

A plank of wood butted up against his back and as the pain in his knee faded, he followed the wood with his hands, finding steps leading up. 

Using both hands and knees, he climbed up until he literally hit a door, reaching to find the knob, but the handle wouldn't budge. 

He stood on shaky legs and banged on the dusty wood, coughing and sneezing, eyes watering and burning, screaming for help until he was hoarse. 

After what seemed like hours, he finally sank back down to sit on the top step, repeating, "anybody...please...help me," over and over, wrapping his arms around his bare chest, suddenly wondering if he should try to find a way out from the bottom of this room. 

He had to have been in a cellar, but why?

The last thing he had remembered, he and Steve had been having lunch. 

They had been following up on a lead from an informant, but the promised meeting never happened. 

They had waited an hour, island time, and all that, before calling it quits and stopping for lunch on the way back to the city...but after that...nothing but waking up in this dark place.

Realizing that banging on the door and calling for help, or sitting on the step, wasn't gonna get him out of where ever this was, he carefully scooted down the steps, one at a time, until his feet found the cold, dirt floor. 

The room smelt stale and musty and as he stood on wobbly legs and worked his way around the walls again, he bumped into something soft, something that gave, so he leaned down to find what was blocking his way. 

His outstretched hands encountered slightly cool skin under his fingertips, so he pulled his hand back quickly, taking a steadying breath before smoothing his hands along the form on the floor again. 

He touched a face, then a clothed chest, two arms and legs, both shoes still in place. 

Crawling and sliding fingers back up the body; something cold and hard pressed into his hip...a gun?

"Oh God...Steve?"

H50H50H50

Danny knelt over the prone form of his partner, searching frantically with fingertips for Steve's pulse point, sweaty hands holding his friend's neck, fingers pressing in.

Nothing.

"God, Steve...please don't do this to me." The cool of the dirt floor permeated his bare knees, spreading up his legs and to his constricting chest, making it harder to breathe, but he managed to plead, "come on...please, babe."

And then, just like that, he found what he was looking for...a gentle beating against his fingers, soft, but steady.

He ran his hands over Steve's face again, leaning in to gently kiss his lips, feeling shaky, but washed in relief, as those tiny thumps continued against his fingertips, "thank, god..."

The, he moved his hands upward, smoothing back matted hair and cradling Steve's skull, but he felt something wet and sticky clung to his palm, and Danny pulled his hand away, wiping it against his boxer shorts, smearing the fluid on his only article of clothing. 

Reaching in the darkness, he found the spot again, a bleeding wound at Steve's temple. 

Pulling his partner's tee up and over, he used the tip to wipe and press against the flow, softly saying, "come on, babe...please wake up."

Once he was sure the bleeding had stopped, he shifted to his behind and searched Steve's body again, running hands over his arms and chest, his belly and down both legs, making sure he wasn't bleeding anywhere else. 

Unlike him, Steve was still fully clothed, but his clothes were damp. 

The ground he was lying on seemed muddy, and Danny's brain gibbered that this part of the cellar must have been used to grow root vegetables, like the cellar at his Nana's house.

He hated going down there, when she would send him to get a jar of canned tomatoes or green beans for supper, but then hope surged, because if that were the case, there should be a hatch down here leading to the outside.

Maybe whoever had tossed them in here had forgotten that.

Standing, he gripped Steve under the arms and pulled him slowly across the floor, heading to where he had thought the steps were. 

It was still too dark to see anything. 

Not even the space under the door at the top of the steps had let any light in.

While setting Steve down on dryer ground, his hand raked across Steve's wrist and watch. 

Searching the round surface, he pressed in the tiny button to illuminate the watch face. 

The time read 3:45 a.m. and cast enough light to get a look at his lover. 

His partner's face was covered with bruises and bumps, both his eyes were swollen shut, his nose was crooked, broken, and his top lip was split. An ugly gash ran from his hairline to around his left ear and he had a huge lump on the back of his head.

Danny took the watch from Steve's arm and moved downward with it, looking for more injuries. 

His leg lay at an odd angle, his pant torn and bloodied at the knee. 

Heat rose from his stomach and chest, bruises already yellowing.

Deciding that he needed to help Steve first, he straightened his left leg, ripping the pant up the seam to make sure the bleeding had stopped.

"Oh, god..." He felt bile rise in his throat as he took in the white bone shining in the eerie blue light. 

How can I fix that? 

Checking the many pockets in Steve's pants, he found the car keys and the tiny flashlight on his key chain. 

Setting the watch on the end of the step, he shined the small beam around the dark room, looking for something he could use as bandages and a splint. 

Shelves lined the far wall and Danny searched them all.

Coming up empty, he moved around the walls, looking for some kind of hidden door, but unlike his Nana's cellar, there was no hatch leading up and out. 

An old radio sat in one corner and he reached for it, turning it on and hearing mostly static. 

He turned the old side dial, finally finding a local news station.

The D.J said something about rain storms and flash floods and then switched to music, nineties pop. Flicking the radio off again, fearing he would drain the batteries, he continued his search around the room. 

Sacks of grain and fill dirt stacked under the wooden stairs had leaked, causing the earthy, musty smell.

And then he saw it. 

Hanging among an assortment of other tools, was a small hand axe. 

He pulled it down, holding it close to his chest...a tool to get out, and a weapon if whoever had put them here, came back to finish the job. 

The flashlight flickered off and on, until finally plunging the room into utter darkness once again. 

Danny pocketed his keys and grabbed up the watch, making his way carefully up the steps.

He called, "I'll be right back, babe," from the third step up, not wanting Steve to think he was leaving him, if by some chance, Steve could hear him at all.

Slowly he reached the top, pressing his head against the cool surface. 

Listening, but hearing no noises, he took a small step back and swung the axe.

H50H50H50

Wood cracked and splintered, small shards flew around Danny's head and face. 

He had been steadily at it for what seemed like ages. 

Sweat streaked done his neck, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead. 

His arm ached, muscles twitching and spasming from shoulders to lower back, but making little headway, he decided to rest and check on his partner. 

Moving slowly done the steps, one plank of wood at a time, he reached the bottom and carefully knelt by Steve. 

A few gentle taps to his lover's face produced no response. 

"Come on, Steve. Wake up and help me out here."

Heat poured from Steve's exposed skin and steady waves of shivers coursed through his body. 

Danny was worried about the lack of response, and the bruising, and injuries, and a little freaked, that he had to go it alone, if he were going to get them out of here.

But if Danny was anything, it was determined...and if you listened to Steve, stubborn, so he kissed Steve one more time, whispering, "don't go anywhere, babe...I'll be right back," and went back to the top step and started once again with the axe. 

After a while, his boxers soaked with sweat, and rivets of it running down his chest and back, the tool sank deep into the old wood and refused to budge. 

Pulling and twisting, panting and begging, he finally tugged it free, nearly clocking himself in the head, but also seeing a faint glow of light, through the hole, he had managed to make. 

Taking the watch from his pocket, he pressed the light button once again. 

6:10a.m. 

Slowly, he managed to chip away a few more sections, now able to stick his hand and arm through and feel the other side of the door. 

His knuckles grazed over the bolt lock and he tugged with all his might, hearing the locking mechanism give.

Pushing the door opened, he looked around a deserted and dilapidated kitchen. 

Leaves and other debris littered the floor. 

An old-style stove stood in one corner, a broomstick and shovel leaning against the side of it.

The back door was hanging from one hinge, a few windowpanes broken and missing. 

Looking out he could see sheets of rain falling, the predawn light gloomy, fog rolling in around the broken frame.

Moving in the other direction, he stumbled over an old area rug, twisting his sore knee. 

A few fumbled steps, and then he steadied himself, searching the front room. 

All the closets were empty, the steps leading to the top floor, missing a few too many boards and caving in. 

The front door was opened too and he shivered, almost forgetting his state of undress, in the exhilaration of being free of the dark room. 

Finding nothing but trees and a dirt road in the front, he closed the door the best he could and moved back to the kitchen. 

Making a better circuit of the room, he found an old box of matches in one of the cabinets. 

Checking the stove, he found a mound of ashes in the bottom. The pipe seemed clear, so he went to the back door and stepped out into the rain.

Immediately soaked and cold, he tiptoed quickly across the small, enclosed yard to a corps of trees. 

A few fallen branches scattered the ground under the cover of the tree's foliage.

Picking out as many dry pieces as he could, he ran back to the house and piled them, using one to prop against the door, keeping it closed. 

He dug some of the ashes out, tossing them on the well-worn, wooden floor. 

Feeling certain that the stove was reasonably ready; he stuck in a few of the branches, grabbing the matchbox. 

Striking the first, he sighed...nothing happened. 

Several tries later and he tossed the whole box across the floor, yelling, "dammit."

Giving up, he made his way back down the steps, seeing the room more clearly with the morning light seeping down from the kitchen.

Steve looked worse and Danny felt terrible, knowing that there wasn't a whole lot he could do to help. 

He sat beside Steve, his back pressed against the bottom step, one hand reaching out to touch Steve's arm.

What do I do now? Come on, think...think. 

A shrill ring broke the silence and Danny jumped, fumbling in one of Steve's pockets, finally pulling the forgotten phone out to answer, a hysterical giggle bubbled up as he swiped his thumb across the display face.

"Chin?"

"Danny? Are you in there, brah...Danny...can you hear me..."

H50H50H50

"Danny...can you hear me...open your eyes..."

He shook his head, or maybe he hadn't...he couldn't tell, only feeling steady pounding vibrating through his brain. 

Had he fallen asleep? 

"Danny. Can you hear me?"

Chin? 

Was the cell phone still on? 

No, the voice was too close...how did Chin find them so fast?

Now, he could feel softness under his head and shoulders, but his chest ached and it hurt to breathe in too deep. 

What’s going on? 

Slowly he opened one eye, the other felt thick and heavy. 

The room was dark, only a small shaft of light drifted in from the hallway. 

Swallowing was tricky, but he managed to croak out, "'eve."

"Steve's down the hall in another room. You're going to be okay." Chin sat off to the side, leaning forward in a plastic chair, holding a magazine.

"How did...how did you find us?" Talking hurt and when he tried to shift over, nothing seemed to work.

"What do you mean? You were right on the H-1."

What? 

Looking down his body, he could see his leg elevated and encased in white plaster. "How'd that happen?"

Chin sat back, dropping his rag magazine on the side table. "You're worrying me here, brah. You broke your leg in the crash."

"We crashed?" He twisted his torso, trying to see Chin. "But what about the cellar?"

Standing, Chin reached for the call button. "Hello, Danny's awake and seems confused, can you send his doctor in here."

"Tell me what's going on Chin...how did you find me and Steve...how did we end up in that cellar?" The look his friend sent him scared him more than waking up in that dark room. "Is Steve okay? What about his leg and...and his nose. He broke both."

Sighing, Chin shook his head. "Steve has a broken nose and he hurt his back a little in the crash, but you're the one with the broken leg."

Looking down again, he could see his leg was in traction, but it hadn't hurt and he hadn't remembered breaking it. 

Thinking back hadn't helped with his confusion either.

They had gone to check out a lead...when the guy didn't show, they came back toward town, stopping for lunch and then...and then...

He remembered being scared because Steve had been in trouble, had been knocked out, unresponsive in a dank and dark room. 

"What about the cellar, Chin. It was really, really dark and...and cold."

"That's right, brah. It was dark. You and Steve went off the road in Waipahu. The car flipped and you were trapped. Steve's seat belt malfunctioned and he was thrown clear, but you were stuck behind the steering column."

His heart skipped and shuddered. 

That's not what had happened, it couldn't be. 

Steve's the one that had been hurt. "Steve...I want to see Steve," It came out a little raspy, a little panicked. but Chin got up and squeezed his fingers and he had noticed the elbow to wrist cast for the first time. 

"Please, Chin. I need Steve."

Steve would tell him the truth...Steve would help him.

"Okay, Danny. Just hold on and I'll see if he's awake. He's been in to see you a few times, but was dead on his feet." 

The doctor came in as Chin started to leave and he spoke briefly with the older woman as he passed.

"Hello, Detective Williams. Do you remember me?"

Shaking his head, he could feel his face flush, sweat beading up on his neck and forehead.

She smiled kindly at him and for a brief second, he thought that he had seen her before...somewhere. 

"I'm Doctor Choi. I've been taking care of you for the last few days. Do you remember you were in a car accident?" 

No... 

He and Steve were coming back into town, he was driving because Steve had unexpectedly tossed him his own keys and had just smirked when Danny had stood still, not sure what to do since he was hardly ever allowed to drive his own car...it had been raining...

"It's okay. You got a pretty good bang on the head, but you're going to be fine."

"Hey, Danno." Steve ambled around the doctor, followed closely by Kono and Chin, his nose packed and taped. 

Sinking into the chair that Chin had been in, he grabbed up Danny's hand, telling him, "you're going to be okay, baby...just stay calm, okay?'"

He nodded as Kono leaned over and kissed his forehead, ruffling his hair and saying, "I'm so glad you're awake...you scared us," and then she gently slapped his shoulder telling him, "don't ever do that again."

"O...okay."

The doctor checked a few monitors and made a few notes in his chart before turning to leave, patting his good leg through the thin sheet covering him.

Danny's eyes stayed glued to his partner's pale face. His nose was broken for sure, a little black and blue, but his eyes weren't swollen and his leg seemed fine. 

Chin cleared his throat and said, "Steve, me and Kono are heading back to HQ. I'll be back this afternoon to spring you."

Steve nodded, still holding Danny's hand, periodically rubbing up his arm.

"Feel better, brah," Chin told him.

"Yeah, Danny...get well soon,' Kono said, stepping away from the bed and following her cousin out the door. 

"Ahh...yeah...thanks." 

Danny tried to shift again and Steve stood slowly, picking up the remote to bring the head of the bed up and adjusting a few pillows. 

When he got close enough, Danny grabbed Steve's gown, pulling and tugging, trying to get it around enough to check out his stomach.

"Hey, hey." Steve grabbed his hands. "It's okay, I'm not hurt that bad."

"But I saw them...I…I saw the bruises on your chest."

"No," Steve moved the chair a little closer, sitting carefully. "I'm a little banged up, but you got the worse of it, Danno. You hurt your chest and stomach on the steering wheel. Your leg was trapped under the steering column. You got a pretty good knock to the head and a nice shiner...When the car rolled; I got thrown. The doc said I was pretty lucky. Probably because I landed in mud."

"Mud..."

"Yeah, baby. Remember, you were a few feet from me. I kept talking to you, trying to keep you awake. I kept shining the little flash light I carry into the car, so you would know I was there." Steve started with the rubbing again. "You couldn't really see me. The car was at a weird slant and it got dark out there pretty fast."

Thinking hard, he pieced together the time from getting in the car after lunch and driving back toward Honolulu. 

The radio was fritzing. 

He could only get the easy listening channel, but Steve seemed to like the songs, singing along to some. The rain was coming down harder...Steve's phone rang...

"Chin called." 

"Yeah. We were almost back and he was checking in on us. That's when a car coming toward us veered out of control, hydroplaning. You had to pull a hard left to get out of his way, but he caught the tail end of the Camaro. We went over the embankment."

Tears sprang to his eyes...the more he thought about the drive, the more the memories of the dark cellar vanished. Shivering a little, he turned his head to look at the ceiling. "It seemed so real."

"The cellar?" Surprised, he turned back to his lover, carefully rubbing at his nose and eyes. "Yeah, but how..."

"Before you passed out, you kept mumbling about being in a cellar. I didn't get all you were saying, but you really scared me, baby."

"It's all a little jumbled, but I thought we were trapped in a cellar. And I was scared, because you were badly hurt and I, I got the door open, but I couldn't..." Steve patted his arm again, telling him, "hey, hey. Slow down. You hit your head. The mind can play some weird tricks on you, you know?" 

Resting back a little further into his nest of pillows, he nodded. "It just seemed so real, man. Smelt real."

"What did it smell like, baby?" 

"Moss and dir..."

"Dirt. Like on the slope we landed on?" Steve leaned forward, resting his arms on the mattress.

"Yeah...I guess."

They fell into silence for a while. Danny closed his eyes, lolled by the soothing rubbing and gentle fingers on his arm and shoulder.

"How long?" He said after some time, looking at his lover.

Steve let go, shifting with a grimace. "It took a while to get you out. I gotta tell ya, the Camaro is trashed."

He nodded, closing his eyes again, not even having the energy to rant about wrecking his car, and trying to pin it on Steve, somehow making it all Steve's fault, telling him, "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep, I'll stay as long as I can," Steve shifted forward, softly kissing Danny's lips, telling him, "I'm going home today, but you’re going to be in here for a little while."

"'Kay. I love you, babe."

"I love you too, Danno...sleep..."

Alone, he drifted. 

It hadn't happened, just some mind trip caused by a head injury.

The room was cool, maybe a little too cool and he shivered, shifting... and the bed had seemed harder somehow. 

The air smelt earthy and later, when he opened his eyes again it was dark...too dark..."Steve!"

H50H50H50


End file.
